Goodbye, Angie

Over the past several days, our 17-year old cat's condition began to deteriorate rapidly. Angie stopped eating, stopped drinking, and couldn't hold herself up anymore. Because my older daughter was planning to come home from college tomorrow to see Angie one more time, I tried to keep Angie alive for just a few more days, coaxing her to eat and drink, trying many different kinds of cat food, tuna, scrambled eggs, cheese, cream, kitty Ensure. But Angie wanted none of it.

I'd been putting Angie on one of Cabana's dog beds because she hasn't been able to get on or off the couch without help. Being low to the ground, I felt Angie had more freedom to move about if she wanted to. Because she enjoys laying in the sun, I'd put the dog bed in a sunny spot, then scoot it over every so often as the sun moved across the room.

On previous days, Angie spent most of the time sleeping, but yesterday, she seemed restless and unable to sleep. Every time I looked at her, she was in a different position on the cushion, and her eyes were open and glazed. I knew that she was uncomfortable, perhaps even in pain, although she never made a sound. I knew the day had come to put her down and that my daughter would understand we had to do what was best for Angie. I was grateful for a warm, sunny day so Angie could spend a little time outside on her last day.

Cabana seemed to sense something and spent some time keeping Angie company and watching over her. Or who knows, maybe she just wanted to lay in the sunshine, too. My hope has always been that Angie and Cabana would be snuggle buddies, and we got pretty close to that toward the end.

As we drove to the vet's office yesterday evening, I was grateful that we had the privilege and blessing of being able to make such a decision for our pet, and I hoped that we will be given the same opportunity with Cabana someday. To get to decide how your pet dies, painlessly and quickly, after a long and carefree life--what an honor that is. Of course, I am sad that we don't have Angie anymore and that my older daughter won't be able to see her when she comes home this weekend. The loss also seems to mark the end of both daughters' childhoods, since they'd had Angie almost their entire lives. That added significance makes the loss even stronger. But Angie's life ended with our final act of love toward her, and I find great comfort in that.

Rest in peace, lil' Ang. We will always remember you with love.

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Golden Days for Angie

Our cat Angie is almost 17-years old. We got her from the Marin Humane Society when she was 2. Our daughters were 2 and 4 at the time, so they barely remember life without Angie.

In the first year or two after bringing Angie home, she would disappear for days at a time. She was an aloof cat, and living with preschoolers, gentle though they tried to be, may not have been her first choice. Once, she was gone for about two months! Of course, on the day I decided I might as well pack away her food bowl and litter box, she came sauntering up the sidewalk. But she came home gimpy. Apparently, she had broken her front leg sometime during her long absence. When I took her to the vet, he said that the leg had already healed in that position, so he would have to re-break it, then set it, but it might not be any better than it was now. So we left it alone, and Angie has never seemed to suffer from it. She could still run and jump, but if you look at her straight on as she approaches, you can see the left forward leg is a bit wonky.

A couple months ago, I switched Angie to Blue Buffalo cat food. She LOVED it and seemed to eat much more heartily (she also started drinking out of Cabana's water dish on a regular basis). She has always been a skinny thing, even though she free feeds. But suddenly, she started getting fat. We all thought it was funny that little Angie had eaten herself into the shape of a beach ball.

But a few other signals told us that things weren't going so well in Angie's body and that her big tummy was not funny ha-ha but funny in a bad way. I took her to the vet last Monday, and he confirmed that her organs were shutting down. Her tummy was bloated with fluids, due to her poorly functioning kidney and liver. By palpating her abdomen, he said he could feel tumors growing there, most likely cancerous.

Angie has lived through a lot. Both my daughters considered Angie their "best friend" when they were little. After 3 years, Angie has come to accept Cabana as her good friend (perhaps best friend would be an exaggeration). The photo above was taken shortly after Cabana came to us as a curious puppy, and the photo below was shot this past year. Angie has endured our foster dogs, mostly by making herself scarce during their stays. For years, she kept our house rodent-free, leaving us her spoils of battle in the yard.

Old age and sickness have actually made Angie much more affectionate. Previously, she only tolerated my company. Now, she eagerly sits on my lap when I sit down to watch TV. It's nice, albeit selfish, that I'm able to enjoy her more during these last days and months than I have in all her previous years combined.

Last week, the vet said it wasn't Angie's time to go yet. He said her heart sounded good, and as long as she will eat and drink, we should keep her comfortable and happy. She isn't in any pain, thank goodness. Every day, I watch her eat a few teaspoons of her soft canned food (she can't chew dry kibble anymore), then she goes outside to sit in the garden for a few hours. I know she appreciates the warmth of the sunshine, and I wonder if she enjoys the flowers. One day soon, we'll be saying goodbye, but until then, I'll feed her whatever she'll eat, let her sit wherever she wants, and be thankful that she's with us one more day.

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